Revisiting
by AGoldenCharm
Summary: Tina's spent the past eight years building her career, staying as far away from the performing arts as possible. But when she gets relocated to NYC, everything and everyone she's been avoiding since high school suddenly come flooding back.
1. Prologue

Nothing pisses Tina off the way tardiness does, and the sales rep on the phone seems to be testing her patience in more ways than one.

"What do you mean they won't be ready by tomorrow?" Tina snaps over her Blackberry, tapping her toe restlessly against the tile, "I sent out the order form a _week_ ago. If we don't have those skirts by tomorrow our models will have _nothing to wear_. Is that what you want? A bunch of half naked models?"

"Well no, I-"

"That's sick. Totally sick. I should report you to your supervisor for being totally inappropriate."

"_What_? No, we just can't-"

"Your supervisor's name is Jim Adams, right?"

"_WAIT_! Stop! I'll- I'll swing by the office tomorrow with the shipment myself, okay?"

Tina's voice cools a little, "Excellent. My office is on the third floor. Second door on the right after you get off the elevator. The door isn't labeled with my name yet since I just got relocated, but if you get lost, you can ask the receptionist to direct you to me."

Tina hangs up after the sales rep mumbles a halfhearted goodbye and she drops her Blackberry onto her desk, rolling her eyes. Seriously, some of the sales reps that _Classy_, the magazine she works for, has to deal with are just mind-bogglingly difficult to work with. Is working with a deadline really _so_ difficult that it becomes imperative to ruin everyone else's schedules?

With a sigh, she plops down in her swiveling chair, grabbing for her black coffee and taking a long sip before shuddering and turning back to her open laptop. Her screen is covered with at least five different Excel files and three e-mail drafts, a mess of unfinished projects that the day will surely include that has her head spinning. But if there's anything Tina's good at, it's organization and full-on dedication, which is why she recently got promoted to begin with. Which is why she's here in New York City, one of the fashion capitals of the world. It's overwhelming and breathtaking, but she's taking it in stride and making the most of it. She's already called up Rachel Berry from high school, who has been in NYC ever since college, and arranged a meet up after work today, and she just knows Rachel is going to make the experience all the more fast-paced and exciting.

There's a knock on her door and she anxiously looks around her half unpacked office space, afraid to reveal it to the world. But she calls out a quick "Come in!" and the door creaks open.

A man in his late twenties appears, his tousled brown hair and bright green eyes capturing Tina's attention immediately. She hasn't dated since her senior year in college, what with her mind focused completely on work and all, but that doesn't mean she still isn't a woman. This man is seriously attractive and it takes a great deal of energy not to say something stupid, but there's nothing she can do about the faint blush creeping up to her cheeks.

"Hey! You must be Ms. Cohen-Chang," he says cheerfully, entering the room without any judgmental or scathing glances toward the mess in her office, "I'm Luke. Luke Perry. The advertising director."

"Oh hi!" Tina stands up abruptly from her chair and pushes it back in order to reach out her hand, which he shakes firmly. That's it. Just "Oh hi!" Way to go, Tina.

"Welcome to our branch!" Luke says warmly, flashing her a smile, "I've heard amazing things about what you've done back in LA."

"Oh," Tina blushes deeper, "Thanks. Really, it wasn't much at all."

"You're just being modest," he replies dismissively, "I just wanted to welcome you and let you know that if you ever have any questions, be sure to let me know."

"Wow, thanks," Tina scratches the back of her neck nervously, "New York is certainly a lot different from LA."

"Yeah," Luke nods, "I've visited the LA branch before. You guys run a tight ship out there."

"I like to think so," Tina grins, "But I have a feeling New York is gonna be way more intense."

"You're in for quite the experience," he nods, reaching for the door again as he makes a motion to leave, "But like I said, if you ever have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

"Absolutely," she clutches onto her desk as he leaves, "Thanks a million."

And with another award-winning smile, Luke is gone.

Tina has a vague feeling that she's going to start to enjoy it here.

* * *

><p>Rachel is a mellowed out, slightly more sophisticated version of her high school self. But that doesn't prevent her from shrieking with delight when Tina leaves her office building and finds Rachel waiting for her. She's dressed in a bright red peacoat and a pair of skinny jeans. She looks great, actually.<p>

"_TINA!_" Rachel gushes, encapsulating her in a tight hug, "Goodness, it's been so long, hasn't it? I'm taking you out for margaritas, this is a reason for celebration! I can't believe you're _here_, this is so surreal!"

"Hi Rachel," Tina chuckles as they untangle themselves, "It's good to see you."

"Likewise! Oh goodness, you _just_ missed Kurt! He left town a week ago because his theater group is doing a tour in New Jersey. He was ever so upset but he said he'll be back in two weeks and he cannot _wait_ to see you!"

"Aww that's okay," Tina shrugs as Rachel expertly hails a cab, "I'll be glad to see him when he gets back!"

As they catch up on the past seven- or was it eight?- years, Tina can't help but notice that Rachel uses an awful lot of "we" and not "I".

"And the latest production of _My Fair Lady_ that I'm in is going spectacularly; I never would have expected it because the director is _so_ horrendous sometimes, but it's a nice surprise. We've been going crazy with the insane schedules and stuff, but-"

"-Rach," Tina interrupts, "Who's '_we_'?"

"O-oh," Rachel falters a little, "Myself and... and Noah."

"Who's- wait, _Puck_?" Throughout all their years of high school and listening to _way_ too many Rachel monologues about her unrequited love for Finn Hudson, never would Tina have thought that Rachel would end up with Noah Puckerman of all people.

"He actually doesn't go by Puck anymore," Rachel smiles fondly, "Every refers to him as Noah, so it's not just me anymore."

"And you two- you two are going out?"

Rachel bites her lip and brandishes her left hand, where a rather gorgeous diamond ring is perched upon her ring finger.

"_Oh my god_," Tina babbles, not believing her eyes, "Engaged?"

"Yes," Rachel nods slowly as they enter the bar, "Three months ago, to be exact."

"Wow! That's unbelievable. Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Rachel smiles graciously before turning to the bartender, "Two margaritas."

And suddenly, just like that, a bridge forms between their high school lives and their current adult lives. Suddenly, they are no longer separate entities. Because for the past eight years, Tina has been making every effort she can to isolate her high school days from the life she's living now. Because eight years ago, she vowed to take her future in her own hands, to leave high school behind and ensure that she would find a stable, practical career without any distractions. And now Rachel is engaged to Noah Puckerman. Now, high school is crashing down all around her.

"Anyway," Rachel says cheerfully as she takes a sip of her margarita, "It will be so fantastic to have another theater geek around."

"Oh," Tina hesitates nervously, "Well I-"

"And speaking of, I brought the community theater's program schedule for fall," Rachel pulls a brochure out of her purse and hands it to Tina, "You_ must_ see some of their productions. I know you ended up becoming a hot shot executive or whatever instead of going into the performing arts, but they put on some really incredible shows that you simply _cannot _miss."

Tina flips through the brochure awkwardly and averts her eyes a little when the display of colorful costumes and dramatic makeup practically engulfs her. She swallows nervously before placing the program on the bar and turning to drink her margarita, "I uh- thanks, Rachel. I'll see if I can make it to some of these."

As Rachel babbles on about _My Fair Lady_ and her upcoming auditions for Broadway, Tina anxiously glances down at the brochure again, where it's flipped open to shows for this week. There's a Gene Kelly medley performance tomorrow at a venue not too far from her office. _Hairspray_ is opening in a week. Comedy troupes are performing nearly every other week. There's a mad rush of adrenaline and nostalgia in her head right now.

But she's been avoiding theater so relentlessly. She hasn't seen a single production since her senior year in high school. It was a Lima Community Theater production of _The King and I_. She remembers it _vividly_, much to her dismay. She can't break her resolve now. Not when she's been doing so well at avoiding it at all costs. God, she _knew_ moving to New York City would do horrible things for her little boycott.

She _does_ have an undying love for Gene Kelly, though...


	2. Chances

**A/N: Hi guys! Here's another chapter! Apparently there's like an actual person named Luke Perry... like an actor. Oops. #popculturefail. Anyway! Enjoy. :)**

* * *

><p>The worst part about today, besides the fact that she had originally planned to go through eight separate shipping projects and only managed to make it through five, is the fact that she's standing outside her office in warm, gorgeous sunshine and she's already starting to eye the Tribeca Performing Arts Center, which is just down the street and in plain view from where she's standing.<p>

What the hell is wrong with her? Even as these words are streaming in her head, she's making her way down the sidewalk, swinging her black bag over her shoulder and eying the looming building with a confusing mixture of distaste, anxiety, and excitement.

God. _Gene Kelly_. It's difficult to even process, but Tina feels like despite all of her most adamant insisting when she found out that she would be transferred to New York, she knew all along that something like Gene Kelly would bring her back to theater. It had to be. Well, either Gene Kelly or West Side Story.

As she approaches the front door, she hesitates before snatching the door handle, yanking at it as though it's the _door's_ fault that she's here despite all of her best efforts. Which it totally isn't. It's hers. Because she's just so damn weak, it's pathetic.

But in a haze of people and ticket counters and intercom announcements, she's suddenly clutching her ticket and finding a good seat toward the front of the audience. She initially debated sitting in the back so that no one would be able to see her, but then realized that she's in a brand new city and no one really knows her here anyway.

The theater dims and suddenly the stage is alight with a mind-numbing amount of lights and almost instantaneously, Tina feels queasy. Like seriously queasy because she _remembers_ the feeling of a thousand lights striking your face, she _remembers_ the heat that washes over your body and she _remembers_ the curtains peeling aside, revealing an audience you can practically _feel_ but never see, just _knowing_ that each and every one of those unblinking faces out there is judging. In the best possible way.

But she doesn't miss it. She swears to god she doesn't.

The first part of the medley is _Singing in the Rain_, obviously, and Tina holds her breath as the music explodes in the theater and the seven dancers- six backup dancers and one lead guy- leap from their spots on stage and Tina is officially mesmerized.

The lead's voice is smooth and absolutely perfect; like a mirror of the original performance. As the man up front starts to hum and the music swells, Tina grips the arms of her seat. Her stomach is aching.

The lead is really, _really_ fantastic. His voice is gorgeous, and Tina feels like she's latching onto every note that spills from his mouth. He even looks a bit like Gene Kelly, which is a little unnerving.

The backup dancers are incredible as well, Tina can't help but notice. They're all tall and lean and move with the grace of true dancers. Tina watches, entranced, as the guys all do perfect spins with their umbrellas. They're like Gene Kelly _machines_, for god's sake. Although...

The one on the far left is the tallest and his arms seem to be more noodle-like and loose than the rest of them. It doesn't exactly throw off the balance or anything; in fact it looks rather good and to be perfectly fair, the rest of the dancers look a bit robotic in comparison. But as Tina squints to keep watch on this dancing outlier, her stomach suddenly drops so fast she's afraid it's on its way to exiting her body entirely.

She's actually half-mortified that she didn't recognize him sooner. Perhaps she was a little more worked up by the fact that she's broken every promise to herself by being here tonight.

But it's him. Incontrovertibly.

* * *

><p>It would be her <em>damn<em> luck that the very first performance to break her resolve would include the very man who, in a way, started this whole boycott to begin with. What are the _chances_, seriously? 6.9 _billion_ people in the world and the moment she decides to see a performance, _he_ appears. She can't break the distance. She's spent way too long avoiding him at all costs to be _this_ close to him.

So why is she standing near the backstage doors, pretending to text people on her Blackberry while keeping an eye trained on the door for any given movement?

Because she's a downright fool, most likely. But each time the doors swing open, she jerks her head to get a better look of whoever it is, and each time, it's not him. She's waited ten minutes or so by now, and still nothing. Maybe it's a sign. Yes, that seems the most reasonable. She sighs and shoves her Blackberry back into her purse and turns away toward the exit, shuffling with her head bent slightly down.

To be perfectly honest, she would have called tonight's trip to the theater a success if it hadn't for been her sudden realization. If she had happily watched the performance without any attention to detail, she could have walked away tonight without any regrets. She would have one Gene Kelly performance under her belt, tucked safely away to tide her over for the next... five years or so. So that she wouldn't have to step foot in another venue for quite a long time.

So damn her attention to detail, even if it makes her good at her job. Damn it all because the memories are flooding back even worse than before and now she just feels-

"Tina?"

And damn her memory. Because if it serves her well, which she _knows_ it does, the voice that's calling out to her right now is both the first and last she wants to hear right now. What are the chances she can just keep walking, making it seem as if she had temporarily gone deaf?

"Hey!"

There's a touch on her shoulder. No such luck.

Tina turns around slowly. She was _ten_ feet from the exit. The people are already clearing out and the only people left are really the performers and the set crew. Seriously, she couldn't have walked just a tad bit quicker?

But the point is, she didn't and now she's here facing a six foot tall man who, she can't help but notice, did a tremendously fantastic job of growing up. He's everything she remembered and a bit more- his shoulders a bit broader, his arms a bit larger, his eyes betraying a bit more maturity. And everything about him right now is driving her over the edge.

"_Tina_," he breathes, practically boring a hole through her as he lets her name float in between them.

She should probably say something. _Anything_. At least an attempt to make pleasant and polite conversation. But she's staring right back at him without a single word to spare and she can kind of feel her lip wobbling and her legs are rapidly turning to jello.

"Wh-what are you doing here? In New York?" Tina can't help but notice that his words are laced with curiosity. Or maybe it's disappointment?

She's frantically trying to search for the remnants of her voice, which seemed to have completely jumped out the window. "What... what are _you_ doing in New York?"

This was so not how it was supposed to play out. He's supposed to be in _Atlanta_. Being an _engineer_. She's supposed to be in Los Angeles. _And neither of them are supposed to be here in New York_.

"I- it's a long story," he amends, bowing his head a little as if in apology. As if she _needs_ that apology.

"Ditto," Tina responds quietly, cracking her knuckles nervously. She sees his eyes dart toward her hands. Damn him for knowing her nervous habit.

"I've got time," he shrugs, and if Tina isn't mistaken, he's offering for them to catch up.

"I- I really shouldn't," she licks her lips anxiously, "I've got work tomorrow and I shouldn't be staying out late or anything."

He cracks a smile, "You've given yourself a curfew? I don't think you're being an adult correctly."

Tina rolls her eyes, "I'm just being responsible."

His face softens a little at this, "I know."

There's an awkward lull and Tina remembers the days when their silences used to be plump with content and security. Now there's a huge rift between them and she can't manage to crawl her way to his side.

He's reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small piece of paper and Tina's gut wrenches instinctively.

_Don't give me your number. Don't give me your number. Don't give me your number._

Maybe she's flattering herself or something but she _cannot_ do this. She cannot make her future a rerun of her past because it will simply tear her to shreds.

"Here," he hands the paper over to her. _Dammit_.

When she reluctantly receives it, she notices that it's a business card. It's got his name emblazoned clearly on it and his phone number and e-mail printed neatly beneath.

"I know what you're thinking," he says quietly, "You don't have to do anything with it. Really. Just... just in case."

Damn him for being polite and knowing exactly what's going on in her brain right now.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Anyway uh... did you like the show?"

"Y-yeah. It was amazing. I haven't seen a Gene Kelly performance in _forever_ and to be honest, I-"

"-I've missed you," he says softly.

How perfectly unfair. How downright unfair of him to say that. If there's anything she doesn't want to hear right now, it's _that_ and he's gone and uttered it in the first ten minutes of seeing him again.

"You don't have to say anything."

There he goes with his stupid chivalry and his stupid understanding of the workings of her brain. She just _knows_ he's watching her struggle for words, struggle for something to say.

"Why don't we go out for coffee or something? For old time's sake."

"Old time's sake?" Tina smiles bitterly, "I don't know if I agree with the implications."

"Okay," he agrees, "Then just to catch up. I haven't seen you in forever."

"Eight years," she says automatically.

"Yeah," he nods slowly, "Eight years."

"Fine."

"Fine?" The way his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and the way his lips curl upward is so endearing and familiar that Tina wants to curl up into fetal position and pray that he'll just leave her be so she won't have to deal with any of this.

"Fine we can go grab coffee," Tina says reluctantly.

He grins as though in victory, "Excellent. There's a great coffee place down the street," he strides over to the door and makes a motion to hold it open for her but then stops dead in his tracks, retracting a little.

Tina stares at him as she opens the door herself and makes her way out the door. He follows.

Well, one thing's for certain. Despite every amount of distancing Tina has ever attempted, despite the amount of time and the miles apart they had spent, despite the fact that her mind is _still_ spinning because what are the chances that they'd _both_ end up in New York City, eight years later, Mike Chang still gets her.


	3. Black Coffee

Tina drinks her coffee black. She always has and always will. But apparently today is all about breaking routines, because Mike is waiting at a small booth with his coffee while she scans the menu above the barista's head. _Mike_ is suddenly back in her life again, and as far as she's concerned, that is _not_ routine at all. She's stalling. She's stalling by debating whether or not to get a different kind of _coffee_, for god's sake, because she knows the moment she sits down across from Mike, everything will just... implode.

"Miss?" The barista arches an impatient eyebrow as Tina continues to stare blankly at the menu.

"Er right," Tina snaps out of it, sighing in defeat, "I'll have a small coffee. Black."

The barista rolls her eyes a little, probably wondering what was so horribly difficult about Tina's order that she had to take an entire minute standing there like a bumbling idiot. As Tina pays and accepts her coffee from the irritable barista, she slowly shuffles over to the booth where Mike is waiting patiently.

"So tell me," Mike starts, his long fingers enveloping his mug, "What have you been up to for the past eight years?"

His voice is actually a little bit different. It's slower, more deliberate. As if he's way beyond his years in maturity. But then again, he always has been. But it still sends chills down her spine.

"I got my business degree at UCLA and started an internship with the magazine I currently work for. One thing led to another, and I found myself getting promoted three or four times and suddenly, they relocated me to New York. And that's why I'm here now. Your turn," Tina rolls her eyes a little at the formality of catching up with him.

"Well you know I went to Georgia Tech," Mike begins, "And I got a degree in electrical engineering. I worked in Atlanta for a while but I'm at NYU right now getting my MBA."

Tina's eyebrows shoot upward, "B-but you're...dancing."

"I'm doing both," he shrugs, "I didn't get to dance much in college and I missed it. You didn't miss singing?"

She opens her mouth, then closes it again, not sure how to respond. "That's in the past," Tina chooses her words carefully.

There's a silence between them as they each drink somberly from their coffee. Tina releases a slow sigh.

"You don't have to look so excited," he says coolly with an amused smile.

Tina stares and frowns, "That's not exactly fair."

"And why's that?" Mike's face betrays amusement, and Tina can't tell whether she's annoyed by that or not.

Tina folds her arms, leaning back a little and giving Mike a calculating glare, "I don't have any real reason to be excited. I'm just grabbing coffee with an old classmate, right?"

He narrows his eyes a little at this, taking a sip of his coffee (black with one cream and two sugars, no doubt) before saying slowly, "Well, I won't say that didn't hurt a little."

"Mike..."

"Am I being unfair, then?" Mike's voice is a little strained.

"_Yes_," she presses, "Absolutely. This is all _your _fault."

"_My_ fault?" Mike splutters, "Wh- _how_? I gave you the choice-"

Tina's hands tighten around her coffee mug, "You gave me a _choice_? That's bullshit, Mike. And you know it."

He's quiet for a moment, taking a slow sip from his mug as he surveys her with his warm eyes that are currently heavy with concern, "I don't see why that is," he says slowly, "I think I was rather fair."

"No!" Tina tugs at her hair, completely stressed out now. What was supposed to be a calm, collected coffee break is rapidly turning into an explosion of every emotion she had locked away for the past eight years.

"No?"

"_No_," she insists, "You- you applied first. I never would have even _considered_ UCLA if you hadn't applied to Georgia Tech."

He grimaces a little, "My parents- you know they wanted me to build a career, and not one centered around dancing."

"Then why are you _here_? Why are you performing Gene Kelly if you spent four years of your life getting a degree in engineering?"

"That's the long story," Mike smiles a little, and Tina can suddenly feel her hormones going positively _haywire_ at the sight of it.

"Isn't that why we're here? So you can share your so-called 'long story'?"

"I suppose you're right," he says thoughtfully, "But I feel like we need to fix something first."

"What?" Tina asks warily.

"This long-standing hatred you seem to feel for me-"

"-I don't hate you," she says automatically, immediately regretting it due to the grin breaking out on his face.

"Well whatever it is," he shrugs, the grin dancing on his lips, "A grudge, maybe? Whatever it is," he repeats, "I want to set it straight."

Tina stares blankly at him, uncertain as to what she should be saying. Instead, she rubs her index finger absently along the rim of the mug, waiting for him to speak.

"Becoming an engineer was my parents' suggestion," he quips in a steely voice, "You and I both know that if I had pursued a dancing career, my dad would have tossed me into a dumpster and disowned me on the spot. Georgia Tech? Also their idea. And I _told_ you that I had no intention of ending our relationship, no intention of ending _any_ of this. But then you went and applied to UCLA and I knew damn well you'd get in. How could you not?" Mike's voice is intense and hard.

"You made the first move," Tina whispers, biting her bottom lip nervously, "But don't worry. It all worked out in the end, right? I have a respectable job and my parents couldn't have been more thrilled when I started pursuing business. It's the curse of having Asian parents, but it sure makes living as an adult a hell of a lot easier. I can pay my bills with ease and I have job security; it's perfect."

Because it's all true, and she knows it. She _knows_ that Mike's parents wanted him to do something practical with his life- engineering, medical school, law... _anything_ but dancing. She _knows_ that when she went over to his house one day during their senior year and found his college application to Georgia Tech up on his laptop, he wasn't doing it for himself- he was doing it for his parents. But at the time, the only thought storming through her head was that he wasn't headed off to New York anymore.

_"Mike... what is this?" Even though she knew exactly what it was._

_"It's a college application."_

_"I _know_ it's a college application," she had rolled her eyes, "Mike... are you thinking about going to Georgia Tech?"_

_"Y-yeah. I'm not really thinking about it. I'm pretty sure that's where I wanna go."_

_Tina was silent. His laptop screen seemed to be glaring back at her. _

_"So- so no more dancing? No more Tisch?"_

_"I don't think so," he said quietly, "My parents won't pay for Tisch. But they got me a bunch of brochures for engineering school and I think I might be good at it."_

_"_Good_ at it?" Tina spluttered, "Of course you'd be good at it! That's not the point! What... what does this mean?"_

_Mike wrapped his arms around her waist slowly, "What do you mean? It doesn't mean anything."_

_"Yes it does," she wailed. Was she being a baby? It didn't even matter; everything was falling apart, "It means we're done, doesn't it? It means all of our original plans for both of us to go off to New York for college are gone."_

_"What?" Mike yelped, "No! I'm not going to make you apply to school in Georgia or anything, but that doesn't mean our relationship is over."_

_Tina stared, "Then why are you doing this to us? You know I can't do the long distance thing. When you went back to China for summer vacation for _two weeks_ I could barely function properly."_

_"So what are you saying, then? That we can't do this?" Mike looked hurt. Genuinely hurt._

_"I'm saying," she said slowly, "That maybe I need some time to think about this."_

Mike frowns, his mind clearly on her earlier words, "I made the first move?"

"By going for Georgia Tech," she says, distressed, "It had always been your dream to go to Tisch..."

"I applied for engineering school because it was what my parents wanted!" Mike repeats firmly, "And yes, I'm here in New York to get my MBA, but also because my friend in Atlanta referred me to a dance and theater company up here. I'm not ready to give up dancing yet," he declares, "Not until my bones grow brittle and my muscles dissolve. Besides," he furrows his brow, "You ended up the same way, didn't you? You did what _your_ parents wanted and studied business."

"Well in part, yes. But we're not in high school anymore," Tina presses, "I did what my parents wanted but I also discovered that they were _right_. If I had gone into the performing arts, I'd be performing for a lousy company as some background choir singer or something- _if_ I could manage to get my hands on an audition at all. Singing was... it was a hobby. It could never become a career. We're not in high school anymore," Tina repeats.

"Rachel is singing. Kurt is singing," Mike points out.

"That's different," Tina dismisses, "They've always had their hearts set on Broadway. And even now, neither of them are where they wanted to be," she points out bluntly, "Maybe they can be happy with small roles in community theater groups, maybe they can claw their way up to Broadway one day. But I know Pu- Noah is paying the bills in their relationship. That Blaine is supporting the two of them."

"So you're saying that because you don't have a man to support you, you can't pursue a risky career?"

"When have you ever known me to need a man to support me?" Tina arches an eyebrow.

"Point taken."

"Look," she sighs, "I don't want to be harsh or unyielding. In fact, good for Rachel and Kurt. Good for them for pursuing their dreams. But theater wasn't really my dream. It was a _hobby_."

"Then what is your dream?"

Tina stops short, frowning at his question a little, "I- I don't know. But I don't need theater the way they do. I'm perfectly content with my job."

He studies her for a while, as if judging her words and weighing them in his mind. She quails a little under his steady gaze.

"You're different," he finally comments.

"How could you expect me to stay the same?"

"I just always assumed you'd still be _Tina_."

"And what is that supposed to mean? That I'm not Tina anymore?"

"I don't know," Mike says softly.

His words are heavy and unsettling, but Tina shrugs it away with an airy response, "You've always been dramatic."

"I guess I have."

They fall silent again and Tina nervously drinks more of her coffee, casting quick looks around the coffee shop as if someone could swoop in and save them from more conversations she never wanted to have. But no such luck.

"So," he pipes up suddenly, "I'm going to go see a production of _Little Shop of Horrors_ tomorrow. Think you might be interested in joining me?"

When Tina accepted Mike's invitation for coffee, she had promised herself two things. One, that she wouldn't enjoy herself. The jury's still out on that one. It's not like she's having a horrible time necessarily. But these questions... these questions are exactly what she's been meaning to avoid and he seems to have covered every single uncomfortable topic yet. And two, that she would _not_, under any circumstances, accept a second invitation of any kind.

She's blaming it on her total obsession with _Little Shop of Horrors_ that her head seems to be acting on its own accord. It's nodding.

His huge smile almost makes it for the fact that her intestines are doing some sick, twisted dance that makes her want to throw up.

_Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit._


	4. Tango

Tina has a lot of issues with the world lately. Maybe it's because she's embracing this angsty new role quite well and the issues simply _follow_ by default. Or maybe it's because the idiot from the third floor keeps sending her new files to read and edit when it's never even been her _job_ to do so (she had seriously considered sending it all back to him with a Post-It note telling him where he might want to shove the files instead). Or maybe it's because her cell phone now has a name between Mel Wisely (her floor mate back in college) and Miranda Pierce (her co-worker back in LA).

She had long since deleted Mike Chang's phone number from her phone- partially because she had heard through the grapevine that he had gotten a new phone in Georgia but also partially because it was like the closure she never ended up having to be able to remove his number.

But now, it's there. Right between Mel and Miranda and it's pissing her off more than it should. Especially because he's sent her a text and it's open on her Blackberry like a taunting menace.

It's not like she hasn't already memorized the text.

Mike: meet me at 7:30 at the door? i'll bring the skittles

Damn him for having a freakishly perfect memory. Why couldn't he have just let the little things go? Although to be perfectly honest, that would be slightly hypocritical of her, since she remembered. She remembered it all.

_"So should we buy popcorn or something?" Tina glanced up at the list of food available at the Lima Community Theater concession stand._

_"You mean the tubs of butter this place sells? Coach Beiste would flay me alive," Mike responded nervously, eyeing the rest of the menu reproachfully._

_"I'd forgotten what it was like to care about nutrition," Tina grinned, poking Mike's side teasingly, "Because let me tell you- those tubs of butter are damn delicious."_

_He rolled his eyes but laced his arm around her shoulder affectionately, "How about we split a bag of Skittles instead?"_

_"I'd hardly call that healthy," Tina pointed out._

_"It's all about portion size," he winked knowingly, "If we split it, it'll be less sugar and less calories."_

_Tina burst out in laughter, "How is that any different from the popcorn? We would have split that, too!"_

_"Just go with it," Mike laughed, kissing her briefly on the lips._

_She momentarily forgot the holes in his logic as she attempted to recover from the dizzying kiss..._

And they had purchased Skittles at every theater production they ever went to after that. _Rocky Horror, Wicked..._ It was simply tradition and Tina hated that the tradition lived on.

"Hey!"

Every muscle inside her body is cringing. She desperately wants to turn around and make a run for it, but that would be horrifyingly immature.

"Hi," she manages weakly as Mike approaches, jogging from where his taxi had just dropped him off.

He's dressed in a loose plaid (_of course_, Tina groans inwardly) button down shirt and a pair of skinny jeans that gives her the strongest bout of déjà vu since encountering Mike in New York thus far. A small smile is playing across his lips and his eyes are alight with a certain amount of knowing that makes her squirm with suspicion.

"I brought Skittles," he says unnecessarily, holding up the red bag and dangling it in the air for her to see.

"Great," Tina forces a smile, reaching for the door handle to enter the building. Suddenly, Mike's hand is on hers, preventing her from pulling the door open.

"Wait."

Startled, she glances up at him. This is it. This is why he's got that knowing grin on... those knowing eyes...

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind a slight change in plans?"

Tina stares at him for a moment before her gaze transfers quickly to the door handle, where his hand is still resting on top of hers. Eyes widening a little, she quickly retracts her hand before asking suspiciously, "What... kind of change?"

Mike stuffs his hands in his pocket, ignoring the blatant movement on Tina's part, "I kind of have to drop by the dance studio to grab some papers for Nick."

"Nick?"

"He's kind of like the boss," Mike shrugs, "He's stuck at home tonight but he really needs those papers so... I know it's nowhere near as fun as seeing _Little Shop of Horrors_, but maybe I could show you around the studio? It's actually kind of neat."

"I- yeah, sure," Tina blinks, slightly taken aback by his request.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes emphatically, "I know how much you like _Little Shop_..."

"No no, it's totally fine," she reassures him a little awkwardly, "I don't mind at all, I've seen it like five thousand times. Besides, I guess it would be kind of cool to see your studio."

"Great," he says brightly, hailing a taxi expertly.

Before Tina has any real chance of processing what is going on, they're whisking off in the taxi and driving as fast as the New York City traffic might allow. A couple of blocks and some polite conversations later, they're screeching to a stop in front of a gorgeous brick building and Mike's paying the driver before Tina even manages to reach into her purse.

"Mike- don't- "

"You pay for the ride back," Mike instructs firmly.

Mike has never, _ever_ uttered the words "_I'll let you pay next time_" and she used to be out of her mind grateful for it because she hates the implications of "_letting_" her pay (because god forbid she needs to be given _permission_ to pay for things). But right now, it's just screwing with her brain.

He fishes a key out of his pocket when they walk up the small flight of stairs to the door of the building. When he lets them in, Tina's eyes immediately wander- they're in a narrow hallway that opens up to a much larger room, which Tina soon discovers is the actual studio.

It looks exactly like a proper dance studio should- complete with shiny wood floors and wall-to-wall full length mirrors. People have used window paint to write little things like "_Dancing is like dreaming with your feet" _and _"Dance first. Think later_".

"So. What do you think?" Mike asks casually as he spreads out his arms in a sort of gesture toward the entire studio.

"It's amazing," Tina admits, smoothing her black and white sundress a little nervously as she continues to read the little quotes on the mirrors. _"Hold fast to dreams... for if dreams die..." _Damn. The entire Langston Hughes poem is written out in the far corner. She's all too familiar with it- they studied it in her freshmen literature class back at UCLA and it had given her the worst stomachache of all time. It had hit so close to home...

"We just had the floors redone," Mike states proudly, "And we got a new stereo system, too. Check it out."

He heads over to the desk in the corner and pulls an iPod out of his pocket, plugging it into the sound system. Intently scrolling through his songs, Mike sticks out his tongue ever so slightly- a habit he's had forever. Tina kicks herself internally for noticing.

An upbeat, slightly Spanish-sounding song comes onto the speakers and Tina furrows her brow in confusion. Since when has Mike liked this kind of music?

Although to be perfectly fair, she hasn't really known Mike for eight years and for all she knew, he could have dated a Spanish girl during college and fallen in love with the culture, causing him to fill his iPod with a plethora of Spanish songs that she doesn't even recognize.

"D'you remember how to tango?" Mike grins a little mischievously.

She narrows her eyes at this. Oh, he's pushing all the wrong (or maybe right?) buttons today.

They took four dance classes together back in high school. One was a tap class, before they were even in a relationship, because she had chosen him as her dance partner and they were both mind-numbingly nervous about performing in front of the rest of Glee Club. So they had signed up for a class at the Lima Recreation Center and it had been insanely fun (mostly because Mike had practically been a better dancer than the instructor herself and it was hilarious how threatened she had been by his talent).

The second was a hip hop dancing class. This was after they had gotten back from Asian camp the first time and Mike had convinced her to take it because he wanted to learn a bunch of new, updated moves that Mr. Schue would never be able to teach him. It had been fun, but hip hop had never really been Tina's thing.

The third was a ballroom class. They had both left feeling a little nauseated and agreeing that ballroom dancing would _never_ be their thing.

And the final one was a tango class and _god_. It had been the most invigorating experience _ever_ and they ended up attending three other sessions because as it turned out, they were both rapidly becoming addicted to tango. They even ended up trying to teach the kids at Asian camp during their second summer there (and failed miserably due to the fact that most of the kids could barely manage to keep up).

"Yes," she replies tersely, "I do."

"Excellent," he says giddily, approaching her quickly, "Then maybe we could... for old time's sake?"

_To hell with old time's sake_, Tina wants to mutter darkly. She wants it to be clear that she never should have accepted the coffee outing to begin with, never should have accepted the invitation to _Little Shop_ (not that they're there right now anyway...), never should have looked Mike Chang in the eyes and allowed the memories to take over...

"Come on, T. Or else the song will be over," Mike insists.

Tina squeezes her eyes shut as tight as she can before giving in, holding out her hands for him to take.

And from that point on, it's nothing but music and muscle memory.

It's horrible, Tina can't help but muse as her mind clouds over instantly and the only thing she can see now is his face, dance has always been the one thing that would bring them together- ever since their tap number during their sophomore year, their performance of _Getting to Know You_ that led to their first kiss, their "rehearsals" after Glee Club for the group numbers for which they were dance partners that actually just turned into makeout sessions in the choir room... And now _this_. She can't really decide whether ironic or totally expected, terrible or amusing.

Maybe a little bit of everything. Maybe the fact that her heart is pumping faster than she even thought was humanly possible is more than just the tango. Maybe his face is entirely too close...

He smells the same. Is that weird to think about? To recognize his _scent_, for crying out loud? He's close enough for her to notice- it's not her fault that the tango is a terrifyingly intimate dance...

His breathing is heavy but steady and it's syncopated with hers- his is much more even while hers is more of a ragged set of triplets. She's more out of shape than he is, that's for sure.

But it ends up not really mattering because she's completely intoxicated with each step of the tango they're dancing and even though they both trip a little due to how rusty she is and how they've forgotten a couple of key steps to the dance, it's heady and good. But his face is inching forward...

Not to kiss her, she realizes with a heavy flood of relief. Instead, he gets close enough so that the sides of their foreheads graze each other and their eyes remain locked, exactly how their tango instructor had taught them years ago...

The song winds down and they're both breathing hard, his hands still grasping hers before slowly pulling them away, not saying a word.

But then.

"You're still really good," he says softly.

"You say that as though you're surprised," Tina responds just as quietly, pulling back so that there's a good foot and a half between them.

"Well... for someone who's abandoned the arts, you sure have held on to your moves."

Tina purses her lips, "I pride myself in being better than just average, no matter the circumstances."

"I know."

There's a heavy silence while they glance at each other shyly, unsure of what to say next.

"Do you miss it?" Mike finally asks.

Dancing? The performing arts? _You_? Tina swallows uncomfortably, "No." _No to any of the three._

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know," she shoots back, "Maybe you're disillusioned."

"Or maybe you are."

The honesty behind his words shatters her reality in one swift motion. He still gets her. It's annoying as hell but he still does.

"I- I have to go," Tina mutters, staring at the ground, "I've got an early meeting tomorrow morning and I really shouldn't stay out late. And uh- I- well, thank you. For showing me the studio," she backs away slowly, toward the hallway, "And for- for coffee yesterday."

"I didn't pay for your coffee."

"I- I know. But I have to go. I have to go."

She casts one last fleeting glance at him, trying to read his simply unreadable expression before heading for the door, tearing out of the building and back into the safe anonymity of the city.


	5. Deadlines

Tina has deadlines to meet. _So _many deadlines and she's already popped an aspirin after a very questionable lunch of cardboard-like rice and soggy vegetables from the building's cafeteria but her head still _kills_. She's vaguely aware of the fact that her hair that she had tossed into a messy bun at the top of her head is falling apart but she also doesn't care. Nor does she care that her button down shirt is getting more and more wrinkled. She'll iron it later. Or not. Whatever her damn schedule dictates.

"Tina? Are you finished with the final report?" Luke's voice calls out from right outside her office. His voice is nowhere near as stressed as she feels and she can't help but feel remarkably jealous.

"Yes, yes, I'm just editing it one last time," Tina shouts back in a frenzy, "I'll drop it by your office in less than five, I promise!" _Shouting_. She's _shouting_ between offices. Like a real professional, she can't help but shake her head sadly.

With a final scan, she hits print and taps her toe impatiently as her painfully slow printer hacks out the six page report. As the gears turn, her mind settles on her empty stomach. She's got a million and one things on her mind and she can't even _manage_ to think about what she's going to do about dinner after work today. Probably pizza. Or take-out. Or something equally pathetic.

"I'm done! I'm done I'm done I'm done," she knows she sounds like she's losing her mind but in a way, she kind of _is_, she muses as she rushes over to Luke's office with the finished report. And it's sad that she's become a total victim of her job and that it's causing her to lose her cool a little.

"I can't believe you're still here! You're such a workaholic," Luke laughs as she drops the report on his desk.

"It's not my fault there are like four deadlines today," Tina gripes, pushing back her bangs in exhaustion, "What time is it?"

"Seven thirty," Luke glances at the clock on his desk, "More than half the office is long gone. How did you end up doing four separate projects, anyway?" he asks in bewilderment.

Tina casts him a shifty glance, "I'm the new girl here. I want to make a good impression." She had jumped at the chance after the floor staff meeting. Their supervisor was doling out assignments like candy and she wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to shine.

"Overachiever," he teases. He really _is_ cute. And friendly. And Tina hopes her cheeks aren't as red as they feel.

"I'm not _overachieving_," Tina huffs, "I'm simply trying to establish a respectable standard."

Luke tilts back in his chair, "Sounds like an overachiever to me," he winks.

She blushes, "Say what you want. I'm just trying to make my mark here in New York." She was well-respected back in Los Angeles and she wasn't about to let her reputation be any worse here in New York.

"Trust me Tina, you already have quite an impressive reputation at our branch."

"Reputation isn't a one time thing. It's perpetual. It's a process," she presses emphatically.

"Wise words," he grins, "But either way, you've somehow managed to finish four reports in one week and I'd say dinner time is long overdue. Wanna grab a bite together?"

"I-"

There's something odd about the way he asks, the way he's quirking his eyebrow- is he asking her out on a date? Or is it something she's totally making up in her head? Oh god. She really is going crazy. Ever since that night at the dance studio with Mike, she's been overanalyzing _everything_. Everything from the way the Starbuck's cashier had smiled at her to the cheerful greeting from the marketing guy on the second floor. She's somehow garnered the pathetic nature of a middle school girl and she has no idea what to do about it.

"What do you say about Japanese food?" Luke offers.

Tina does her best to shake away her nervous stuttering, "Yeah, sure sounds great!"

Luke flashes her a brilliant smile and stands up, "Meet you in the lobby in ten minutes?"

Something in Tina's brain flashes violently. She can suddenly hear the tango music pounding between her ears and the vaguely familiar scent of clean laundry and homemade Chinese food floods her nostrils and brain. The headache's back and it's somehow multiplied. She has no idea how he's managed to infiltrate her mind like this but she doesn't know what to do about it. Maybe sushi will make it all stop. Just maybe.

"You got it."

* * *

><p>"I'll have the sushi deluxe," Luke orders politely as he folds his menu and tucks it away.<p>

"And I'll have the sashimi special."

As the waitress nods with a warm smile, Luke rests his chin on his right hand, "So Tina, tell me about L.A. How did you like it there?"

"I loved it, actually. Nothing like it. But I needed a change, you know? I had been in California ever since my undergraduate studies and I've always wanted to live in New York."

"Well the magazine industry is a lot stronger here, so that's understandable. Have you always known you wanted to go into this industry?"

"Um. Not really," Tina shifts uncomfortably in her seat, "Not at all actually."

"Oh?" He looks genuinely interested, which she feels bad about because she always freezes up when people start talking about past aspirations. She finds it happens most often at dinner parties and it drives her completely up the wall. It was worst back in college, when all _anyone_ would talk about were their plans after school. It was like a painfully long nightmare.

"I didn't decide on it until after undergrad," she didn't like where this conversation was going. She didn't like to talk about her expired dreams.

Luke drops the taboo question and Tina practically wants to scream. He arches an eyebrow in curiosity, "What did you want to do before that?"

_Just lie. _

"Uh... med school," she invents wildly, "You know. What my parents wanted." Which was only partially true. Her parents didn't really care if she wanted to go into medicine or not- they just wanted her to do something practical. _Well here I am, mom and dad. Is business practical enough for you?_

"But business and marketing interested you more?"

_More than performing? Or more than the cockamamie medical school story I just made up?_

"Yeah," Tina shrugs. _Change the subject_. "What about you?"

"I wanted to be a lawyer once upon a time," he sighs, half-smiling.

"What happened to that aspiration?" She could see him as a lawyer.

"Wasn't cut out for it," Luke frowns, "Dropped out after my first year of law school."

She shuts her eyes for a moment, digesting his words, "What do you mean? Why weren't you cut out for it?"

"People involved with law have a different demeanor. I don't really know how to explain it. They're just _different_. I didn't feel like I belonged with them."

_The stage lights are hotter and more intense than ever. Just the way she likes it. She can practically bathe in them; they're like the dancing sunbeams that flooded through her kitchen windows every morning before school. Except her kitchen resides in her house. The stage is her _home_._

_As Rachel hits her award-winning note at the end of the number, Tina and Mercedes harmonize in the background as they twirl across their stage in their perfectly matched choreography. The adrenaline is kicking into overdrive and she can practically feel her heart pumping in her throat. _

_When the number ends, with a bang as planned, she can practically _feel_ the eruption of applause from the audience. She's grinning ear to ear and her chest is heaving and she can barely even breathe properly but she's filled with a euphoria she wants to just bottle up and keep tucked away forever._

_And suddenly __there's an arm around her waist and she turns around only to face a smile almost as big as her own. As everyone in New Directions cheers with excitement with the continuing applause, she settles into the familiar embrace with a sigh of happiness._

_This is _right_. This is home._

"You all right?"

Luke looks concerned. As he probably should be, considering the fact that she zoned out for a good ten seconds, completely unaware of the lull in conversation. Trust her to churn out awkward moments like it's her job.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just lost in thought is all," Tina laughs, "In fact-" She stops abruptly as her phone rings, the generic ring tone blaring obnoxiously from her purse. She blushes, "Sorry about this."

"Go ahead and take it," he smiles, "Don't worry."

"Thanks," she inches her way out of the booth and heads toward the ladies' room, pulling her phone out of her purse. She stares at the display name in disbelief.

No way. No way in hell.

"Hello?" Tina hisses as she ducks into the washroom. The door swings closed behind her and she checks underneath the stalls to make sure it's empty.

"What a cheerful greeting. Why so upbeat?" His voice is soft and light-hearted.

"I'm a little busy," she whispers, leaning against the wall with a sigh.

"Oh? With what, may I ask?"

"With- with dinner."

"So why are you whispering?" He sounds amused.

"I'm grabbing dinner with a co-worker. Late night at the office."

"A co-worker? Really? Male or female?"

Tina rolls her eyes, even though he can't see her doing so, "_Mike_. Does it matter?"

"Well, yeah. A little. If it's male, then this conversation will rapidly become null. If it's female, then I can continue to ask you out for drinks tonight."

"_Miiiike_."

And suddenly it's like they're in high school again. Him with his coy little suggestions - picnics on school nights for hours upon hours, ice cream runs during lunch, and... certain excursions after Glee rehearsal in empty classrooms. And her with her impossible-to-repress smile.

"Male or female, Tina?"

"Male."

"Ouch."

"It's not a date."

Tina honestly has no idea why she felt the necessity to say that. It shouldn't matter. It _doesn't_...

"Oh?"

"Mike..."

"Drinks. Ten? At the bar on 76th and Madison?"

"I- I don't know if that's the best idea..."

"C'mon, Tina. Just a couple of drinks. You- I miss you."

_I miss you_.

It's like the truth she's been avoiding ever since she got to New York. No, ever since she _left_ Lima. And now that she's finally coming to terms with it, she can't tell if it's like a dream or a nightmare seeping its way into reality.

"I'll see you at ten," she finally concedes.

And she can practically _see_ him beaming on the other end.


	6. Needs

Tina has long since gained the slick ability to snatch the bill from underneath anyone's eyes. Luke's yelp of surprise almost makes her want to giggle, but no way is she letting her guard down.

"You can't be serious," he gapes, reaching out his hands in a vain attempt to retrieve the bill.

She grins, "Sorry."

"This isn't your first time swiping a bill, is it?" Luke laughs, shaking his head.

"Well spotted."

"I can't let you do this," he stands up abruptly, and she instinctively clutches the bill to her chest.

She watches, stunned, as he heads over to the nearest waitress and whispers in her ear. She nods and they head over to the register together. He slides her a credit card and she takes it, swiping it expertly through the reader and producing a receipt for him to sign.

"No. Way."

Tina does her best not to glare at him as he saunters back to their table with a relatively satisfied smile plastered across his face. _He's just trying to be a gentleman_, she tries to convince herself, gripping the arms of her chair without realizing it.

"Thank you," she says as gratefully as she can muster.

"Not a problem," he bows his head, chuckling, "You're a tough one to beat."

"So I've been told," she stands up, pulling her jacket on with a tight smile, "My mom says I'm one of the most stubborn people in existence."

"I wouldn't doubt it," he grins, ushering her out of the restaurant, "Thank you for a lovely dinner."

"And thank _you_ for treating. I'm paying next time, you hear me?" They step out and into the brisk night breeze.

"We'll see," Luke chuckles, "But I don't give in that easily."

"Neither do I," she shoots back, shouldering her purse, "Thanks again, Luke. I'll see you at work, okay?"

"Sounds good."

As he departs, she checks her phone. Nine forty-eight. She has twelve minutes to book it to the bar- twenty-five if she doesn't want to look desperate. It's only two blocks away so she walks. And the whole way there she can't stop thinking about graduation senior year.

_"Congratulations, ma'am."_

_Tina breaks away from Mercedes, who she had been hugging fiercely after their commencement ceremony was over and people began milling about as the parents flooded into the area._

_Mike's cap and gown somehow doesn't swallow him whole the way it seems to do to everyone else in their graduating class. He still looks as lean and well-built as always, despite the potato sack nature of the gown. His smile is more somber than usual; his eyes aren't lit up like they typically are. It makes her feel lost._

_Mercedes casts Tina a furtive glance before whisking away, leaving the two of them together._

_"And congratulations to you, too."_

_"We're done. Forever."_

_The words resonate horribly with Tina and it makes her want to throw up. Done? Forever? After they had finished their college applications, with only Ohio State University as a common school between them, they had settled into an awkward resignation. A resignation that accepted the fact that they wouldn't be going off to college together- neither of them _really_ wanted to be at Ohio State, seeing as how it didn't offer anything either of them wanted. Besides, they had already received their acceptance and rejection letters. And California and Georgia seemed... inevitable._

_"With high school," Mike clarifies, his eyes widened in alarm._

_"I- I know."_

_"Tina..."_

_"Are _we_ done, Mike? Are we done forever?" Damn it all if her eyes aren't welling up right at this moment. She wants so badly to be strong about this but she honestly doesn't know if she can._

_"I don't... I don't want us to be done..."_

_"But Mike," she wails, trying not to make a scene, "Think about... think about how hard it's going to be when you're all the way in Georgia, trying to study for an upcoming exam and going out with friends or whatever else is keeping you busy... and I'm in California dragging you down. That's the last thing I want. The last thing I want is to be a hindrance to your career."_

_"You wouldn't be..."_

_"You say that now. But maybe we both need to concentrate on our studies. Maybe we both need to explore what's out there instead of tying each other down."_

_"You think I'd tie you down?" Mike's eyebrow is raised. He looks painfully patient. So much so that it makes her want to burst out in tears._

_"It's a two-way street, Mike," she says softly._

_"So... so we're breaking up? For good?"_

_Every moment of their relationship- every hug and kiss and laugh and date- is flashing vividly before her and she feels dizzy. Like someone had yanked the rug beneath her feet and caused her to land on her head. Was it really supposed to end this way?_

_But maybe she's not surprised. They never got into huge fights before. Neither of them has ever cheated. Neither of them has ever had an outstanding issue with the other. Neither of them had ever found a reason to fight, a reason to break it off. So maybe she's not surprised that this is the end. But maybe she's a little surprised that there _is_ an end._

_"I think it might be for the best." Never had eight words been so difficult to utter before._

_"T-"_

_"Tina! Michael! Congratulations!" Tina's mom is hurrying over toward them with a proud, brilliant smile and a camera hanging around her neck. She's followed by her dad and Mike's parents._

_They share a heavy, loaded glance before turning to their parents with fake grins painted across their lips..._

Tina slips into the bar and takes a seat right in front of the bartender, who's filling shot glasses with tequila. It's already quite packed despite it being relatively early. But there's no sign of Mike. Until-

"Hey there."

She swivels around in her bar stool to find Mike standing there in a preppy cardigan and dark skinny jeans, a shy smile playing on his lips. _God_. He's making it more and more difficult...

"Hi," she manages, "I was just about to order something-"

"How about we start with a round of bourbon?" Mike plops down next to her, his leg brushing against hers, which she notices way too quickly.

"Sounds good," she hopes the touch of exhaustion in her voice is only something her imagination is cooking up.

No such luck. Mike picks up on it instantly, "Long day?" He motions to the bartender and mouths "bourbons", which the bartender responds to with a curt nod.

"Mhmm," Tina accepts the bourbon from the bartender, "Work was killer."

"Tina?" His voice is laced with curiosity, his question poised for further interrogation.

"Mm?"

"I..." He hesitates for a moment, then picks up his glass and dips his head, "Cheers."

"Cheers," she says softly.

They take their shots and Tina can feel the buzz and warmth of the alcohol flooding into her system. She hasn't had a proper drink in months.

As she runs her finger along the rim of the now empty glass, debating whether or not to bring up the topic that's been storming through her mind for days now. His eyes are warm and inviting, and she's overcome with the desire to lace her fingers through his. She shuts her eyes tightly.

_"Yo! Tina! Are you coming to the APO party tonight?"_

_Tina's roommate, Kylie Patterson, is a wild, bubbly party animal to say the least. Not that she gets into stupid shit all the time, but more like she feeds off of social energy like she needs it more than air. She's dragged Tina to at least six frat parties in the past four weeks._

_Tina's on her computer, her Skype chat opened and her Facebook logged on. A regular social butterfly. Her fingers hover over the touch pad on her laptop, eyes trained on the name between Mercedes Jones and Mom._

_"I don't think so, Kylie," Tina responds quietly, "I'm exhausted."_

_"Fatigue is _not_ a reason to skip a night out," Kylie grins, bouncing on her bed a little as she jabs hoops into her ears._

_Tina chuckles, "Well I don't think the brothers of APO are going to take it lightly if I fall asleep in the middle of their party. I think I'm just going to stay in tonight."_

_Kylie sighs, "Your loss, C-C. See you tomorrow then!" With a perky wave, she bounds out of the room, leaving Tina with her sad little laptop and even sadder feelings._

_The dorm room is quiet as soon as Kylie leaves and Tina folds her legs to her chest before sighing heavily, double clicking Mike's name on her Skype chat._

_Tina: how's it going?  
>Mike: heyy. not bad. engineering courses are kicking my ass though<br>Tina: i know what you mean. business courses are brutal  
>Mike: haha<em>

_Tina starts to type out three damning words that she wants so badly to say but can't. "I miss you..."_

_Mike: oops gotta run! meeting up with some friends  
>Tina: oh okay. bye :)<em>

_She's never felt less like smiling, despite the animated little emoticon dancing on her screen. As she watches him log off, she rests her chin on knees, feeling her throat clench up. _

_She misses him. There's really no denying it. After three years of dating, how could she not? It's so hard to quit cold turkey, people always say. And never has she understood the truth of those words until now._

_Because she misses curling up with him in an armchair. She misses falling back against his chest and feeling him stroke her hair. She misses his _presence_ and the familiarity and despite the thousands of people on campus, she feels _lonely_._

"Tina? You okay?"

"Can you believe it's been eight years?" Tina rasps, rubbing her temple slowly.

"I- no, I can't. It feels like eighty."

"Drama queen."

"Seriously."

"It was hard."

"Damn straight."

There's a pause in their conversation as they stare at each other and the bartender brings them another round of bourbon. They drain it almost simultaneously. Alcohol has always been fire in her throat and damn it all if she doesn't get Asian Glow as though her face is actually on fire.

"You lied when you answered my question that night," he says softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he swallowed his share of bourbon.

"What question?" Tina has a feeling she knows exactly what question, but it kind of makes sense to her to play dumb.

"About whether you missed it all."

"Missed what?"

"Performing."

"Oh."

"And our relationship."

"_Oh_," her voice cracks this time in defeat. Because she was kind of banking on it only being about singing and dancing and performing and somewhere in the back of her head she was hoping that he wasn't even _thinking_ about their relationship but...

If there's one person she can't lie to, it's Mike.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Then why do you push me away every time I invite you out?" Mike finally asks, his question heavy with concern, "How come every time we meet up you look like I'm about to lock you up in prison or something? How come you... how come you don't seem like you care anymore?"

His words slice at her daggers and she can feel the tears again. She swears she got her mother's genes for being over emotional and she's resented it for years. He's giving her an innocent, pleading look and it makes her want to curl up into fetal position and sleep the feelings away.

"Because..." Tina says slowly, digging for words, "Because I spent eight years getting over you and I may have finally gotten to the point where I could go on through my daily routine without feeling like I was totally alone. I had finally been apart from you longer than I had been with you and I could finally come to terms with the fact that we weren't together anymore. When we went off to college, we rarely ever talked-"

"We could have talked," Mike reasons with a frown.

"_No_. No we couldn't have because you were busy or I was busy and neither of us had the right to reel the other one in. We weren't in a relationship anymore and I had no right to demand that you spend Friday night Skyping with me instead of going out with your friends. No right to ask you to listen to my problems or listen to my achievements when you had your own life to live. Do you know how many times I opened up a chat window for you, wanting to type out my entire day to you, only to delete it all and close it because you suddenly logged off or went away or simply because it wasn't your concern anymore?"

"I would have been there for you," he leans forward a little in his bar stool, "You could have talked to me about anything you wanted."

"But that's not how it worked!" Tina shoots back, "That's not how any of it worked! When we agreed to end it-"

"I never wanted to end it," he interrupts, "For what it's worth."

_Damn him. Damn him for being the hero in the relationship, for being the good guy. For making her look like some sort of awful wench._

"Neither did I," she says hoarsely, "But we both knew-"

"Was it really for the best if we were both miserable?"

"I-"

"No, listen to me, Tina. I know it was hard getting over our breakup. And I'm sorry for that. But you're living in the _past_. This is now. This is _today_. And what do you want _today_?"

She presses her lips together tightly, "I want to be happy."

"You don't think I can make you happy?"

Tina sighs, defeat seeping into her very veins, "Just the opposite."

He smiles wanly, "We're adults now. We have our futures ahead of us. Don't you think...?"

"It just seems so wrong spending eight years getting over you just to kill all that progress in one night. It's like I'm on the verge of finishing this story and you're not letting me," Tina can't help but notice that her voice is trembling.

"So forget that story. Let's start a new one," Mike reaches out and takes her hand and suddenly, it's not just the alcohol that's making her feel warm.

"Mike... I-"

His lips come crashing down on hers in one fluid motion and _holy shit_.

It's like everything she's been missing, every piece of the ten thousand piece puzzle that had mysteriously disappeared, is falling right where it all belongs. His lips are just as soft and inviting as she remembered, just as intoxicating as she had spent pathetic nights imagining. His arms are a little bigger, his chest a little wider, than she recalled, but somehow her body still meshes comfortably against his and she can't get over the _taste_.

Maybe this _is_ a new story. Maybe she totally deserves to be able to write something totally new. Maybe after years of struggling to come to terms with where she was in life, trying to redefine what she needs to accomplish, _this_ is what she _truly _needs.


	7. Tequila

Tina and Mike only manage to break apart when a soft cough interrupts them. Practically gasping for air, Tina pulls away and jerks her head toward the source of the sound. It's the bartender. And he looks properly amused.

"I was just wondering if you wanted another round of bourbon," he grins toothily.

Mike clears his throat, his cheeks a rather flattering shade of red, glancing at Tina, "How about tequila this time around?"

She gives him her most nonchalant "why not" shrug and he nods to the bartender.

As the bartender prepares their tequila and retrieves two slices of lemons from behind the bar, Tina opens her mouth to talk, but Mike cuts her off almost instantly.

"Tina," he reaches for her hand, "I know you're going to say something overly analytical about the current situation. Or something equally infuriating about how you need to think about it or how everything is too complicated-"

Damn him for knowing her so well. Just to throw him off, she smiles mischievously, "Actually, I was just going to say... as I recall, tequila has gotten us into quite a bit of trouble in the past."

_"Just one more, Tina. Come on," Mike wheedles, "We're almost done with the bottle."_

_"You, Mike Chang, are going to be the death of me," Tina slurs, grasping onto his shirt collar with both hands, "Didn't we say we'd keep it in control tonight?"_

_"It's not my fault," he grins foolishly, "You're the one that smuggled the tequila."_

_"Yeah, and what do you think Puck's gonna say when he finds out that one of his liquor bottles somehow d-disappeared?" Tina says much too loudly._

_"Shhh shhh," he laughs and hiccups all at once, "Don't be so noisy or they'll find us."_

_They're huddled in the Lopez's storage closet while the rest of the New Directions are dancing to wildly raucous music. Santana's house was empty for the weekend and she lost no time in making sure to throw a crazy rager, what with it being the weekend after finals and everything. Although Tina's pretty sure she would have thrown the party either way. Tina had snatched a half-full bottle of tequila from the liquor stash propped up on the kitchen counter when no one was looking and she and Mike had whisked off to the storage closet to make out and take shots together._

_"What could they possibly do?" Tina mumbles, inching her way closer to Mike's body so that her torso is pressed up against his and his chin is almost grazing the top of her head, "I'm not scared of them."_

_Mike laughs, "Fine fine but at least-"_

_Tina coaxes the bottle of tequila out of his hand, places it on the floor, and flings her arms around his neck. The tequila is buzzing outrageously in her head and she's not even sure if she could spell out the alphabet at this point but she _does_ know that Mike's lips are hot and delicious and all she wants to do is down the taste of him the way she downed the last 6 or 7 tequila shots._

_"Tina-"_

_She cuts him off once more, her fingers finding the hem of his shirt and wiggling it off of his body. They might be in a house with ten or so other people in it but there's no way in hell she's letting that stop her from getting exactly what she wants..._

_Tina tosses his shirt aside and the warmth from his body is drawing her in like a magnet. She sighs happily, searching for his lips once more as he fumbles with her shirt, the alcohol clearly taking a toll on his coordination._

_They're interrupted with a sound of a 'bang' on the storage room door and suddenly it flies open, revealing Puck and Santana looking positively gleeful._

_"Awww shit," Puck pumps his fist in the air, "Asian love making right hereee-heyyy wait is that our tequila?"_

_"Put your shirt back on Mike, we see enough of your abs on a daily basis," Santana snorts, "And if you guys end up making a baby in my house I'm gonna have to cut both of you. And Tina- oh my god you two are both so smashed."_

_She's only vaguely aware that she's almost falling to the ground and giggling, clutching onto Mike in an attempt to keep herself stabilized. She has no idea what's so funny about the situation but for some reason, she can't stop laughing. _

_"No more liquor for you two," Santana waggles her finger menacingly, "Or Imma have to boot you two out and no way in hell you wanna be wandering the streets of Lima Heights at this this time in the night."_

_"Sorry Santana," Mike pouts, laughing hysterically as he pulls Tina out of the closet._

_"Those two are like a pair of sexually starved rabbits," Puck grins as they start to make their way back to the basement where everyone else is partying._

_"I'm surprised he hasn't knocked her up yet at this point, damn," Santana remarks._

_"You just know Chang's always got his condoms handy. The man's more prepared than Planned Parenthood."_

_Santana elbows Puck in the side as they laugh their way back to dancing without thinking and partying without a care in the world._

They take their shots together and Tina instantly grabs her lemon slice, sucking it as hard as she can to get the taste of rubbing alcohol out of her mouth. As she sets her shot glass down, she clears her throat.

"Mike... you know how hard it is for me to sorry, right? To admit that I'm wrong?"

"All too well," he nods his head swiveling back and forth in his stool a little.

"Well... I owe you an apology," she sighs heavily. She's starting to feel the effect of the bourbon and tequila in her head a little, "For freezing you out. Because honestly, after trying so hard to get you out of my head, I just didn't want to have to deal with it any longer. For giving you the cold shoulder when coming to New York when all you wanted to do was be friendly. For-"

"Shh, Tina," Mike claps his hand over her mouth, smiling, "You don't have to apologize, okay? I know things have been messed up between us but we're almost twenty-six and in a whole different part of our lives. And if you're okay with starting over-"

"-It's not, though."

"It's- what?"

"It's not starting over," she says softly, surveying his familiar face as though searching desperately for the eight years they've lost, "It's a continuation of a story that didn't deserve to die."

"I couldn't agree more," he raises his already empty shot glass as a toast, "To the future."

"To the future."

Tina Cohen-Chang is a lot of things. She is a career-driven woman with an admittedly stubborn head on her shoulders. She is a feminist to say the least, a woman with standards set high and values set straight (at least in her mind). But one thing she hasn't been in a very long time is one half of a whole and today, she notes as her heart swells while Mike stands up and envelops her in his arms, she is home once again.

* * *

><p>Thank god she's not hungover this morning, Tina can't help but be grateful as she stumbles her way into her office, her purse dangling haphazardly from the crook of her elbow. It's good to know that her alcohol tolerance hasn't completely failed her despite not having so much as a sip for months now. But that doesn't mean she doesn't feel exhausted as hell now<em>.<em>

The night before had been unreal. It had ended with him calling them a cab and bringing her back to her apartment. He had kissed her gently on the cheek, then succumbed when she had met his lips with her own and she's honestly not sure how long they had made out on the porch in front of her place but she _did _know that by the time he left, she was so dizzy she could barely collapse on her own bed properly for a dream-induced night of sleep.

She woke up this morning to a single text:

Mike: i'm ready to start anew. are you? :)

She didn't really think much of it besides the obvious meaning of their new relationship. That is, until she had settled into her office, ready to work on her newest advertising project.

"Knock knock!"

Tina looks up to find Luke standing in her office doorway, a bright smile on his face- completely opposite from the fatigued expression on hers. Suddenly, his smile is a little less attractive and his demeanor a little less endearing.

"Hi Luke," she says wearily, exhaling heavily as she stares at the impossibly huge project ahead of her.

"Long night?" Luke arches an eyebrow, catching on quickly as he sits down in the chair on the other side of her desk.

"Um... you could say that," she smiles faintly, "In fact-"

"Miss Cohen-Chang?"

The secretary from their floor- Debra something- is poking her head into her office.

"Yes?"

"There's someone here to see you. He's in the lobby."

"I- what? Who?"

"A Mr. Chang. He says it's urgent."

"M- Mr. Chang?" Tina splutters. What's _Mike_ doing her office? "I- sure, send him in."

"Will do," Debra whisks away, keeping one finger on her headset.

"Chang?" Luke asks, "A relative?"

The irony of his question kind of makes Tina want to double over in laughter but she's heard her fair share of name jokes between her and Mike so the humor escapes her a little this time around.

"Not... not exactly. Actually-"

"Ohh boy are you going to love me!" Mike's deep, familiar voice calls out as he rounds the corner into her office, "Just wait til you- oh-" he stops short when he spots Luke in her office, "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

The sight of Mike in a crisp button down shirt and gray skinny jeans makes her want to bound across her office and leap into his arms but what with Luke's presence...

"Oh not at all," Tina stands up abruptly, smoothing down her skirt and striding across the room, "Um Mike this is Luke, one of my co-workers. Luke, this is Mike, my uh-" she pauses briefly and shares a glance with Mike, "My boyfriend."

And somehow, saying it out loud makes it much more official than a night at a bar or stolen kisses underneath the porch light, and the way Mike grins from ear to ear makes her feel like her whole body is filled with helium and floating upward toward the sky.

"Boyfriend?" Luke's eyebrows shoot way up to his hairline, "Wow I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

A small tremor of guilt washes through her as she recalls the mild amount of flirting and the pseudo dinner date between her and Luke. To be fair to herself, she wasn't _in_ a relationship at the time but the way Luke is half squinting at her makes her feel a little bit awkward.

"Well very nice to meet you Mike," Luke shakes his hand politely, "But I should really get back to work. Bye Tina."

"Bye," Tina replies meekly as he leaves.

"Wow," Mike grins, snaking his arms around her waist, "He's quite a looker."

"Mmm," she rests her head against his chest, "Not in comparison to the fine gentleman standing in front of me. Now explain to me why I'm going to love you despite the fact that I most certainly already do?"

He chuckles, brushing a strand of her hair aside, "I have a surprise lined up for you."

"A surprise?" Tina purses her lips.

"Yeah, and I know you don't usually like surprises but I really had no way of planning this in advance. Any chance you can take the afternoon off?"

"Mike! I kinda have responsibilities here," she chides.

"I promise it's important!" Mike pleads, "And if we could do it any other time, we would. But it's so last minute that this was the only availability."

"_What _was so last minute?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Well, yeah but-"

"And can you take the afternoon off?"

"I mean, maybe-"

"Great!" Mike claps his hand together, kissing the top of her head, "Then let's go!"

"I- wait, I have to tell Debra and-"

"I swear it's important, T. Just give this a chance. Trust me, okay?"

Of course she trusts him. That's old news by now.

* * *

><p>"Where. The hell. Are we?" Tina gapes at the brick building before them. It's clearly labeled "Tribeca Performing Arts Center" and she <em>knows<em> it but she's still having a difficult time wrapping her mind around it.

"We're at Trib-"

"I _know_ Mike but _why_?"

"You. A stage. And Callie Lawrence, the producer of a community production of Rent."

It all hits her like a tidal wave and her jaw practically slams against the ground, "_MIKE!_ You _can't_ be serious!"

"Dead serious. I pulled a couple of strings but Callie says she'd love to hear you sing and they haven't quite finished casting yet."

"Mike, I can't _do _this! I haven't seriously sung in _so _long and I don't have anything prepared and this isn't what I _do _anymore-"

"Tina. Listen to me. Yesterday we said we're continuing a story that didn't deserve to die, right? I think your performing never deserved to be locked up the way it has. I think you deserve to sing to a huge crowd the way I _know_ you love. I think the world is dying to hear your voice again."

"Mike..."

"Just humor me, okay? Come inside, sing for Callie, and we'll go from there, okay?"

With a sigh of defeat, she lets him drag her into the building and lead her to a beautiful auditorium. It's nearly empty except for one woman who's sitting at a table, rapidly taking notes.

"Callie!" Mike calls out, pulling Tina by the hand right up the stairs to the stage, "She's here, I brought her!"

When Tina finally gets to the stage and the stage lights hit her from every angle, she feels her heart stop completely.

"Hi Tina," Callie is a tall, professional looking woman with wide-set eyes and thin lips pressed together, "I've heard quite a bit about you from Mike."

"Good things, I hope," Tina jokes nervously.

"Of course. And as much as I'd love to chat, I have a meeting in about ten minutes, so if you could give me your rendition of '_Out Tonight_', I would greatly appreciate it."

Tina takes the deepest breath she can manage, glances briefly at Mike, who's sitting next to Callie with his arms crossed and a beaming smile across his face. He nods subtly and winks.

Soaking in his encouraging expression and every ounce of performing persona nestled within her, she opens her mouth and begins to sing.

If being with Mike again is the home she had been searching for for so long, this stage is like the final missing piece and she feels like someone's pouring all the warm, syrupy emotions she's been craving into her very soul and _god _she feels complete again.


	8. Black and White

**A/N: This will be the last chapter of Revisiting! To be honest, it didn't turn out exactly how I wanted it to, but it was fun to write anyway. :) Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Hercules <em>is playing softly on the TV in her apartment but she's not really watching, partly because she practically has the entire movie memorized at this point but mostly because she's far too distracted by the man tangled with her on her squashed couch.

She has a million and one different thoughts circulating in her head right now, and it doesn't help that she's still practically breathless from the exhilaration of performing earlier that day. Callie had given her zero feedback; she had simply bade goodbye and whisked off, leaving Tina and Mike in the auditorium alone. But she didn't care what Callie thought. That performance was all about everything she truly loved and had left behind and now she feels like she's finally in the place that's been escaping her for so long.

"You're in your own little world, aren't you?" Mike asks gently with a knowing smile. He reaches for her hand, twisting his fingers between hers as if in some sort of trance.

"I just don't know what to _think_," Tina sighs, watching as their fingers dance their way around each other, "It's all so sudden, and who's to say I even got the part?"

"You'll get the part."

Tina rolls her eyes, "Your unwavering support is unwarranted, but appreciated."

"Don't worry about it, T. Just focus on how much you really enjoy performing."

The return to her old nickname comforts her; it makes her feel like she's being wrapped up in a security blanket she hasn't touched in years.

"But I'm not ditching my career for this, you know," Tina finally reveals, exhaling sharply in an attempt to release the pressure that's been building up inside her brain.

"Of course not," he soothes, clearly catching on to her blatant stress, "You made a decision to pursue a stable, lucrative career and there's no reason to give that up now. But T, I just want you to revisit a passion you so obviously have. Because you cut cold turkey and I don't think that was fair to yourself."

"I don't think I did it right," Tina concedes, frowning slightly, "I think I saw the world as completely black and white. And when reality- and my parents- struck down my childhood dream of becoming a performer, I shut it out completely, unable to see it as an option on the side. But maybe this audition will change that."

"You're a performer at heart," he reaches over for the remote and turns down the volume on the TV, "And you deserve to shine the way I know you can."

"What about you?" Tina asks, "If you make it big with dancing, will you give up your engineering career and your schooling?"

"I want to finish my studies and successfully get my MBA," he says thoughtfully, scratching his temple, "I'm not willing to give up halfway-"

"-That sounds like you," she smiles fondly.

He chuckles appreciatively, "And right now, I'm mostly a backup dancer so I can't see myself making it huge any time soon. But if I get an offer after I've gotten my MBA? Maybe. Dancing is my passion the way performing is yours and even though we both picked something reliable for our futures, you and I both know that if opportunity came knocking at our doors, we'd be there to greet it with open arms."

"If neither of us end up in show biz, do you think we'll be able to control our pent up Broadway urges that never got to see the light of day?" Tina says jokingly.

"I think we'll manage," he assures her, "In fact, you and I can perform for each other every night to get it all out."

It makes her heart swell to hear him talk about the two of them as though they'd been together all along, as though their futures together is already a given. It's that tactful, loving characteristic that Mike will always have that Tina's missed so much- and so glad to have back.

Tina shifts on the couch so that her legs are under her butt and her knees are up against his legs, "Mike... I don't know what the hell I did to deserve running into you again and discovering that you somehow still like me-"

"Love you," he corrects, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

Tina laughs, kissing him briefly on the cheek, "Okay, okay. But I'm eternally grateful that you walked- or rather, danced- back into my life."

"You're so corny," he grins, "And I love it."

"I know," she wails, "When did I turn into such a sap? I thought you were the cheesy one!"

"Hey! I resent that," Mike tweaks her nose.

"You know it's true," she shrugs, "In fact, I-"

She's interrupted when his cell phone rings and he holds up one finger and answers it.

"Hello? Oh hey Callie! Yeah we were just talking about it. Mhm. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, definitely. All right, thanks for calling. Bye."

Tina can feel her heart thudding rapidly inside her chest in anticipation. She hasn't been this nervous since back in LA when they were ready to announce who got the big promotion (thank god it was her; she hated being second to anybody). Mike's expression is unreadable for a change and it makes her all the more anxious.

"Verdict?" Tina asks meekly.

His half-smile becomes instantly apologetic and suddenly she can feel her hopes crashing down around them.

"Sorry T."

To be fair, she hadn't prepared for this audition at all, not to mention the fact that she hadn't properly performed in years. In fact, she should have been _surprised _to get the role. But somehow she had started to build it up in her head and now that reality had waltzed into the picture, it became infinitely more disappointing. Doubts in every possible form begin to flood her mind and she can feel her plan to revisit the performing world crumbling into nothingness.

"It's... it's okay."

"But T-"

"No, it's fine. Maybe this is a sign or something, y'know? That this was something that I should have left behind the way I had been doing for so many years. That I shouldn't be on this wild goose chase for a spot in this cutthroat business."

"But Tina-"

"I don't know who I was kidding, to be honest. I just let my hopes get too high, forgot to keep myself grounded and all."

"_Tina_. Listen to me."

She shut up, alarmed by the urgent tone of his voice.

"Callie said that although she couldn't give you the part, she loved your voice and thinks it has a real place in the business. She told me that she sent an e-mail to a couple of agents in the area who might be interested and they'll be able to contact you in no time."

"I- you- what?" Tina stammers, completely startled by this news.

Mike smiles wearily, "Please don't tell me all that stuff you just said was true? You don't actually want to give all this up, do you? Don't you want to at least give it a shot? The Tina I know would never give up, never settle for anything less than her very best efforts."

Tina can feel her mouth opening and closing much like that of a goldfish and she honestly couldn't muster up a single sentence.

"_Tina_," he sighs with a small smile, embracing her tightly, "I thought you'd learn by now that even if one door closes, you're perfectly capable of opening up a dozen more. No more black and white, okay? No more squashing down your dreams to be practical or sensible or whatever it is you're trying to convince yourself you're being."

She can feel tears welling up in her eyes and she knows they're not from sadness or despair. In fact, she feels like they're a conglomeration of all the emotions she's been having in the past couple of weeks and rediscovering her relationship with Mike and potentially reviving her passion for singing is only making it worse.

Even though she wants to thank him, to discuss this new development with him, to jump up and down on her couch and rejoice the fact that even if she got rejected after one audition, there is a great possibility that many more might follow. But instead, she does the only thing her brain can fully convince her of doing.

"I love you."

She didn't mean to say it so soon after resuming their relationship; in fact, over-analytic-Tina is screaming in protest, but today, she's keeping over-analytic-Tina at bay because very-much-still-in-love-Tina just wants to speak the truth.

Besides, when he breaks out in the world's most breathtakingly gorgeous smile, flings his arms around her waist, kisses her hot and heavy, then finally pulls back to utter, "I love you too", she knows that very-much-still-in-love-Tina has never been more right.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that's a wrap! Thanks everyone for reading and let me know what you thought! Like I said, _Revisiting_ didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted it to, but I still had fun writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it as well! I have quite a few other Tike ideas brewing in my brain, but if you have any prompts or requests, don't be afraid to drop me a message! **

**Happy reading. 3**


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